A Dull Bridge Shift
by Kalira69
Summary: The Enterprise is exploring the quietest, most boring quadrant they have yet had the misfortune to come across; Jim has his own ideas on how to liven up the day's shift. (Exhibitionistic hand!porn with additional telepathy.)


This was originally written for a Porn Battle in January 2011, for the prompt 'bite', and . . . I think I didn't post it then because I felt it wasn't porny enough for the Battle. I was going through my files this morning, found it, and reworked it a little (though it's no more porny) to post now.

There are a few bits of Vulcan in the text; translations and context are listed in the end notes.

* * *

Spock drew in a sharp breath - not enough to be called a gasp - as Jim leaned in heavily against his shoulder, ostensibly checking something at the science station. He had just opened his mouth to point out the unnecessary closeness of this position when Jim drew a finger across the screen, indicating something that was currently meaningless to Spock, and then settled his hand lightly over Spock's own.

Spock floated in the sudden wash of Jim's mind against his own, flash and bright and busy and full of thoughts of _him_. It was strange to see, for a moment, himself, the back of his neck tinged slightly greener than usual - though Spock himself was not aware what shade that part of himself might usually be; the knowledge came from Jim's mind along with the image - his fingers spread helplessly beneath a golden-tanned hand against the bright blue of the screen. Jim's callused fingers rasped gently over the prominent bones of his fingers, teasing at the tender spaces between.

"Captain-" Spock managed, aloud, and then nothing more.

It went unacknowledged, particularly when contrasted with the underlying silent, confused pleas from Spock's mind to Jim's. He couldn't seem to make clear - didn't even _know_ \- whether he wanted Jim to stop, _now_ , or never stop doing _that thing_ with his fingers.

"Yes, Mr. Spock?" Jim answered, eventually, taking obvious care to breathe the words directly against the side of Spock's neck, in a register that was usually restricted to their room - or at least to their off-duty hours.

"I- I-" Spock faltered, voice a little thick, and stopped. _I do not believe this is appropriate behaviour for the bridge, ashayam._ he directed, more smoothly, between their minds, though he knew the intended sentiment was somewhat lessened in effect by the endearment and the throbbing undercurrent of warmth in his own mind.

 _Nothing has happened - quite literally - in this quadrant for over three days, k'diwa. I think we can spare a_ _ **few**_ _minutes._ Jim replied, his mind rich with fond amusement threaded beneath an attempt at maintaining a calm surface. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the side of Spock's index finger, and a minute shiver ran through him.

 _But the rest of the bridge crew-_ Spock began, feeling his ears warming.

Jim leaned closer, tracing the tip of his nose over the curve of Spock's ear and making him shiver. _Uhura is absorbed in a translation - a completely recreational one, but I can hardly blame her, it's dead out here and this must be boring as hell for her - several of the ensigns are half-asleep, Sulu is trying to keep enough concentration to at least follow Chekhov's conversation - and Chekhov himself seems to be the only one focused on anything remotely relating to work._ he rebutted neatly. _No one is paying any attention to us, Spock._

Spock's mind was hazed over slightly with the sensations Jim was sparking within him, and he thought the answer he sent made little conscious sense, but Jim clearly took it as bowing to his arguments.

 _Now, k'diwa. . ._ The murmur of Jim's mind was soft, but teasing and affectionate and lustful all at once, an energetic swirl that was still overwhelming to Spock after so many months of their intimate relationship.

In response Spock inadvertently sent a tangled mess of arousal, nervousness, and, yes, acceptance.

Jim grinned, dipping his head just a fraction lower to kiss the arch of Spock's neck, pressing his fingertips down harder as he dragged them back and forth just at the vees between Spock's fingers, revelling tangibly in the uncontrollable shudder the sensation produced in him.

Spock's hand twitched, fingers drawing closer together - trapping Jim's fingertips between them, wedged against the bones. Spock struggled to muffle a moan at the pressure, clenching his jaw. _Ni rom, t'nash-veh yonalik t'hy'la._

Jim smiled and kissed his neck again, lightly. He tugged lightly at his trapped fingers, making Spock shudder as they shifted against his own, and gave a silent, nudging reminder that with his hand held like this, Jim couldn't continue the caress.

Spock obediently spread his fingers wide again, pressing his hand hard against the surface of his workstation for support, thankful, in some vague, faraway corner of his mind, that the screens were not delicate, finding himself currently quite incapable of moderating his strength.

Jim dug one very short nail into the side of Spock's index finger, just above the second knuckle. Spock's hips jerked, his mind going temporarily incoherent.

Jim soothed the small hurt by stroking over it with the soft patch below the pad of his fingertip, then bit sharply into Spock's neck, pressing his hand down atop Spock's, rocking it gently back and forth as his teeth dug a little deeper.

A faint, almost-sensible wondering when he had closed his eyes drifted across his mind, and then Spock lost the thread of any thought, shuddering weakly as he tipped into orgasm, throat tight with a moan he struggled not to voice. His legs nearly gave way beneath him in the whirl of sensation, leaving him slumped slightly and resting his weight between Jim, solid at his back, and the console, cold and hard in front.

Jim slowly and gently released the grip of his teeth on Spock's neck, his mind warm with admiration as he watched the edge of green, deeper than the slight flush, that was slowly bleeding away from his bite mark. Spock was slightly flustered by the depth of Jim's feral pleasure at the mark he had left behind, though it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling - it simply didn't belong _here_.

"Th- that was perhaps taking things a touch too far. . ." Spock breathed. "For the bridge." he clarified needlessly, panting very quietly.

Jim pressed his mouth back to Spock's neck, trying - not very well - to muffle his laughter. After a moment of Spock trembling against him he relented and moved his hand away from Spock's to settle at his waist instead, his shaking shoulders betraying his laughter easily if anyone cared to look their way.

No one did - it had been dead quiet for days, and the bridge crew had mostly passed through boredom to the dull disinterest on the other side. Besides, the Captain needling his First Officer happened all the time, and while it was sometimes entertaining, it was hardly worthy of note, especially if they were being quiet and simply working together, as it seemed they were today.

Perhaps boredom could even dull Captain Kirk, loosest cannon in Starfleet.

* * *

Translations:

 **Ashayam** \- Beloved (a beloved person, term of endearment)

 **K'diwa** \- Beloved (shortened form of address from k'hat'n'dlawa; equated to the Terran term 'beloved')  
(K'hat'n'dlawa - 'one who is half of my heart and soul' in its deepest sense; became unfashionable after Reformation for its more intensely emotional connotation. Yes, I had Jim use an archaic Vulcan term of endearment; I figured finding an emotional term in Vulcan would amuse him and heck knows Jim would absolutely put that much effort into such a thing to entertain himself.)

 **Ni rom, t'nash-veh yonalik t'hy'la.** \- So good, my fiery t'hy'la.

 **T'hy'la** \- Friend/life friend (friend-lover-lifelong companion, blood brother/sister; soulmate; soul-brother/sister)


End file.
